Middle Aged Punchbag - Pete Gold

You know what’s heaven to me

Is a nice cup of tea

Not too much milk

And a big, comfy chair

And some loose underwear

Perhaps in silk

I think of grilling some kippers

So I put on my slippers

In the kitchen I bemoan the lack of storage

Which reminds me now I need a bigger mortgage

'Cause now I’m semi-detached from you

I am a middle aged punchbag

Lonely since your departure

And as I griddle my brunch I listen to The Archers

For comfort

I eat lentils and rice

It’s not very nice

But it helps me poo

I recycle my glass

It’s a pain in the ass

And so are you

Like a chair from IKEA

You are merely veneer

And although I have a topped-up mini icer

Now it seems you find another icer nicer

I’m losing interest in you

You are a middle aged slagbag

Skulking 'round all bar one

You coyly twiddle your handbag, hoping to have some fun

With bankers

Wankers

That’s not where this story ends

I’m persuaded by friends

To try a date

They tell me not to despair

I’ve still got all my own hair

It’s not too late

Though the restaurant is rowdy

She looks pleasantly dowdy

Over lunch she tells me she belongs to Mensa

And I noticed that she shops at Marks & Spencer

Well that’s good enough for me

I am a middle aged punchbag

I live in queue

I have a middle aged hunch that

You’re a punchbag too

You say you’re really a fat hat

That’s cool with me

At home, I show you my porn mag

Anal Thumper 3

Or 4

Or more